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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26521456">mirror, mirror</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/avosettas/pseuds/avosettas'>avosettas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>a cumbersome and heavy body [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Evillious Chronicles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Implied/Referenced Cannibalism, Magic, Post Greed Arc, Pre-Song: Capriccio Farce, Theatre Arc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:27:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,718</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26521456</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/avosettas/pseuds/avosettas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I got Lich to make you a body,” Arte says. “He owes me a favor.” </p><p>Postman perks up. Arte’s smile grows even wider. “I really hope it will fix you. But if not, I guess I get a new body.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lilith Balledold &amp; Arte</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>a cumbersome and heavy body [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969261</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>mirror, mirror</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>holy SHIT, tagging for this fandom is hard. </p><p>evils theatre gang for most dysfunctional found family award, with special recognition to the graveyard gang. i love ec rins and also i have never read the novels or the manga. everything i know is song/wiki based. thank u i love u have a nice night.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Lich, I need you to make me a new body.” Lich hardly even looks up from the food he’s preparing, just smirks knowingly. He smells like a corpse and could probably pass for one too, if he was lying down. </p><p>“And what happened to the one I very recently made for you?” He finally turns to her, still smiling that stupid, devious smile. Looks her up and down. “It seems to be in very good condition.” </p><p>He’s not wrong. Arte’s body is still relatively new, all things considered. Lich’s bodies are well made, usually - if she didn’t do anything stupid, this one would likely last decades. It already has been a few years. </p><p>“How about,” Arte says, leaning up onto the counter, as close as she can get to him despite their height difference. “You make the body, and you don’t ask questions.” She slips back down onto her heels, out of his personal space. “Besides, you owe me a favor for the restaurant fiasco.” </p><p>“Oh, this is for the mail girl, is it?” Lich chuckles, cutting vegetables into small, even pieces. “It won’t fix her, you know that.” </p><p>“Oh, just shut up and make the body, you idiot.” </p><p>“Fine,” Lich sighs, but it’s obvious he’s exaggerating how much of an annoyance it is to him. </p><p>~</p><p>Arte mostly hopes that Lich doesn’t <i>really</i> know whether or not a new body will fix Postman; no one really knows, except maybe MA, and Arte isn’t about to go talk to that <i>witch</i>. Besides, she’d probably just get in trouble for it. And maybe used in her next “experiment”. </p><p>Evils Theatre is quiet. There haven’t been any trials for <i>ages</i>, and no intruders to cook for Lady Banica, either. It’s <i>boring</i>. </p><p>Her shoes click on the tiles as she passes every door from the kitchen. First the cinema, then the stairs leading to Heartbeat Clocktower, and the door opposite it that leads to the graveyard. Then the director’s office, with its dim light and staticky magical feeling, and the courtroom where the director doll would be singing her Clockwork Lullaby. </p><p>Finally, all the little rooms and passages and staircases that led to rooms that Arte and her fellow theatre inhabitants used. Postman would be in her own room, no doubt, right next to the courtroom. Everyone called it the mailroom, because that was what it was filled with. </p><p>“Postman?” Arte trills, knocking at the mailroom’s door repeatedly. “I’m coming in!” If Postman wanted to stop her, she would have thrown something at the door already; it was the only way she could, without a voice, save perhaps barricading it. </p><p>Arte presses the door in with the weight of her whole body - all of the doors in the theatre were so <i>heavy</i>! But the mailroom is empty. On the desk and the two little tables against the walls, there are letters stacked up, sometimes in envelopes, sometimes not, and some jars of ink. The bed is made, but it looks like it was slept on that way - the thin blankets are dented. </p><p>So Postman is in her delivery van, Arte reasons. </p><p>The graveyard is relatively quiet, though Eater is stomping around in the shadows, and Pollo is probably around somewhere. No doubt Lady Banica is as well, but if there were anyone in the forest the idiot in the clocktower would have told them long before they reached the graveyard.</p><p>Postman’s van sits just beyond the graveyard. It’s small and red, and if it weren’t surrounded by the dark greens and browns of the Millenium Tree Forest, it would be inconspicuous. Arte thinks it probably blended in well in the USE, with its little cobble-brick buildings. Or maybe not. The colors probably matched, though. </p><p>It looks empty. Arte bangs on the window. There’s a flurry of movement from the backseat, and suddenly Postman appears. Her hat is missing, but she’s wearing the oversized coat she uses as a disguise during deliveries, the one that goes past her chin. She blinks at Arte, almost boredly. </p><p>“I got Lich to make you a body,” Arte says, a grin crawling up her face. “He owes me a favor.” </p><p>Postman perks up. Just a bit - her eyes widen a bit, and she sits up straighter, but it’s the most she ever does. Arte’s smile grows even wider. “I really hope it will fix you. But if not, I guess I get a new body.” </p><p>Postman just nods, moving to open the van’s door. Arte is used to her mannerisms by now; aside from MA, she’s probably the only one who actively seeks out the emotionless girl. Even then, MA only looks for her to use her. </p><p>(Arte doesn’t like that. Not one bit. Sometimes, she thinks she’d like to cook up MA for Lady Banica to eat…) </p><p>~</p><p>Lich makes them wait a whole <i>week</i>. It feels like <i>forever</i>, and he’s probably only doing it to annoy Arte. (Postman doesn’t seem to mind, but Arte doesn’t think she has the capacity to be bothered by anything.)</p><p>They’re upstairs, Arte and Postman, and Arte’s idiot twin, searching through old records, when Lich finds them. Eater is trailing him, a big lumbering shadow behind the willowy undead man. “It’s done, Arte.” </p><p>Postman practically jumps. It’s more like a flinch, maybe. But she’s alert, and her eyes are wide, staring at Arte. </p><p>“So where is it?” Arte replies, annoyed. Lich and Eater are both empty handed. </p><p>“I’ve left it in the mailroom,” Lich says nonchalantly. Pollo looks back and forth between them, confused. </p><p>“Did you get another body?” He asks as Lich and Eater pass them to go through to the part of the attic full of books. </p><p>“It’s not your business, Pollo,” Arte sighs, tossing a record with no sleeve across her lap to his. </p><p>“<i>I</i> want a new body,” he continues. “It’s no fair if <i>you</i> get one, but I don’t.” </p><p>“Hush, Pollo,” Arte says, standing. Postman stands with her, quick and eager, practically inching towards the door. “We’ll be downstairs.” </p><p>“Bye,” Pollo mumbles with a bit of a pout on his face, but he seems to cheer up as he plucks the next record from the pile. Arte waves Postman on towards the stairs. There’s nearly a spring in the other girl’s step. </p><p>“This is the most excited I’ve ever seen you,” Arte observes, taking the steps quickly to match Postman, who’s taking them two at a time on top of having longer legs. </p><p>Postman nods. Arte continues, “If this doesn’t fix you, I might cut MA into little bits and make a stew out of her… And Lich. But Lich would probably taste bad, since he smells like a corpse.” </p><p>Pollo would laugh, and Lich and <i>maybe</i> Eater would too, but Postman doesn’t say anything, or really react. Arte chalks it up to the not-having-a-will thing, because her jokes are hilarious. Even if Pollo laughs at the stupidest things. </p><p>She shoulders the door to the mailroom open, and Postman scoots past her. On the bed is the mud body. It looks exactly like Arte, and if she hadn’t stopped being human <i>ages</i> ago, she might have shivered. Postman only stares. </p><p>“Right,” Arte says. “Let’s get this done.” The mechanics are strange; Postman isn’t very good at magic, which is why she’s so… broken in the first place. Arte will need to do the heavy lifting. </p><p>First, she’ll need to pull Postman’s soul into her own body. That’s the easy part, at least for her; she has no idea how it will feel for Postman. Then, she’ll need to force her soul into the empty mud doll, in order to let Postman take over her body. </p><p>She places a hand on Postman’s forehead; she has to step close to her, because the other girl is slightly taller than she is. (She won’t be, after this.) </p><p>She barely realizes it when Postman’s soul enters her body. It’s so… small. Restrained, almost. Like it realizes it’s taking up space and decided to minimize how much damage it would do. </p><p>Forcing her own soul <i>out</i> is harder. And Postman’s soul, despite how unobtrusive it is, is clingy. </p><p>But eventually she wakes up in a different body, staring up at the ceiling. Postman’s old body has fallen to the floor. Arte’s old one, now inhabited by Postman, is slumped against the bed. </p><p>“How do you feel?” Arte asks, sitting up despite the tension from the unused mud-muscles. She’s used to this now; four hundred years of body after body after body from Lich, each the same as the last. </p><p>Postman looks up, with Arte’s blue eyes instead of her old brown ones. Her mouth moves for a minute with no sound, and then she says, haltingly, “I can <i>talk</i>.”</p><p>Arte grins. Postman smiles. It’s like looking in a mirror, but different. Like someone broke a mirror and glued the pieces back wrong. </p><p>“Lich is going to be <i>so</i> mad about this,” Arte adopts a fake accent that sounds absolutely nothing like him. “‘Postman is stuck that way, getting a new body won’t fix her,’ my ass!” </p><p>Postman laughs; it’s Arte’s own, but hearing it out of another soul’s mouth, from a different body, it sounds less like the manic giggling she thinks of it as and more like the tinkle of a bell. </p><p>Then, conspiratorially, Postman says, “We should keep this a secret from the witch. But can I tell you something?” </p><p>“You’re probably right,” Arte concedes. “I’d still like to make a stew out of her. Lady Banica would love it…” </p><p>“I’m sure,” Postman laughs again. “Can I tell you my real name?” </p><p>“Yes,” Arte says, because she would do anything for this girl. The only person she would do more for is Lady Banica, and maybe, <i>maybe</i> Pollo. On a good day. </p><p>“It’s Lilith. Lilith Baldured,” she says. And she laughs, again. “It’s so weird to be able to talk again! But I love it.” </p><p>“I like being able to talk to you,” Arte says without thinking, “because it was so boring to not get any answers back.”</p><p>Lilith looks at her with a look Arte hasn’t ever seen, especially not on her own face. “Thank you,” she says softly. (Arte places it. It’s fondness. Thankfulness.) “Thank you for not giving up on me when I was broken, Arte.”</p>
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